In Their Bones, In Thier Roots
by Marina Silvus
Summary: His sister had helped him dye his hair before he started the academy, early enough that the scent wouldn't register with any Inuzuka students. His mother had gone to the store and let him pick out what shade of nondescript brown he wanted. He'd chosen a brown almost identical to the great Fire Beeches that towered over their home, he'd love how tall and sturdy they were. How depen


This fic is set in the wonderful BlackKatMagic's Shinobi Den Mother Universe, and is a drabble idea I've tossed around based on a few of her comments about Genma and the children he collects. If you haven't read her work, this probably won't make sense to you, and you should definitely go read her work. It's Amazing.

He's not sure really how or when it starts. Maybe because to Genma, there's not that much about him that he thinks is worth caring that much about. He's wrong of course, but it'll will be several more year before he even entertains the notion.

So Genma doesn't know how this whole... thing… started. He'd noticed that Kotetsu and Izumo had stared at him incredulously a few weeks back before whispering furiously back and forth before sprinting out the door shouting about finding Iruka, conspiracies, proof, and state secrets among other things. Genma had smiled, shrugged and moved on.

The thing is, now all three of his brats have started watching him intently anytime his hands go near his head. Sharp eyes focus in, unblinking when he adjusts his bandana. Iruka seems to lurk outside the bathroom, until Genma eyes him curiously one eyebrow raised in question. A few weeks later he caught the Terrible Twosome chatting with Aoba, who'd been laughing. That was never a good sign. However instead of being cornered at the bar next time he was out with Aoba's obnoxious hen impressions, he got the feeling the other special jounin was eyeing him speculatively through his shades.

Tsume made bawdy comments about curtains and drapes in the way station while making eye contact. Anko chased Iruka around Genma's legs, while he avoided tripping over both of them, and when she seemed to have made her point (Iruka was exhausted, blushing and missing the dango he'd started the afternoon with) she smirked and tugged on the ends of Genma's hair before wandering off. (Genma sometimes thought about how much space the apartment had, with all three boys, expenses, and whether or not Anko would actually accept anything from anyone.) He ran into Inoichi while out getting groceries one time and the T&I Head squinted at him oddly before shaking his head and smiling, then started chatting about his daughter and her latest adventure with the other InoShikaCho children.

Anyway whatever it had started as, it's clearly something now, and Genma is starting to feel watched almost everywhere. It does not sit well with him, despite how benign it seems.

The Thing, because whether Genma is aware of it or not it it has been deemed worthy of the capitalization, is this: Iruka had been helping him put away the shopping when he'd found a box of hair dye while looking for the shampoo.

He'd stared at it for a full minute before shaking his head. Because this didn't make _sense_. He'd seen photos of Genma as a academy student, seen photos of his relatives too. They all had. There was one of him standing between two women that sat on a shrine in the corner of Genma's room (away from rough housing boys and special jounin). All three of them had the same straight, soft brown hair. The older woman's had been lighter, the younger's slightly darker with the smallest wave, but not enough to be remarkably different. (Kotetsu had once asked who the women and little boy were, he had a similar shrine set up in the corner of their room with a scroll of names because all the pictures had been lost in the destruction the Kyuubi left in its wake. Genma had smiled sadly and explained that they were his mother and sister, the day he had gone to the Academy. What he hadn't said was that his mother had never returned from a mission that no one would tell him about later that year, and his sister had perished after he'd become a genin in a battle with Kumo. That they found out later when Aoba had been over to check on them during one of Genma's longer missions.)

So why had Genma bought hair dye the same shade he already had? That he'd always had? He's not even twenty! Even shinobi didn't tend to go grey that early, and even if he had Genma was more likely to laugh about it than hide it.

So really, Iruka did not know what to make of this strange new discover about his guardian, any possible reasons becoming more and more outlandish. Obviously he needed to consult with Izumo and Kotetsu. (Had he asked anybody else, they would have laughed at the idea that those two would help curb his imagination.)

The theories started off small. He was prematurely grey suggested Izumo, Iruka shot that one down as quickly as he had when he had thought it himself. He had to dye it for missions, but prefered his natural colour at home, was fairly plausible until a thorough search of the apartment revealed no other coloured dyes in stock. Then they started theorizing over if Genma's father, who they'd never ran across pictures of, had been related to a shinobi who'd had distinctive hair! Kotetsu immediately suggested the Nindaime Hokage, and his spiky head of snowy hair. Iruka argued that if they ignored texture similarities, then it was just as possibly he'd been related to he was related to the Yondaime and was hiding hair even brighter than the Yamanakas. Izumo sat between the two as they bickered and thought, he finally pointed out that both the Shodai's wife and Konoha's Red Hot Hobanro had been Uzumaki's from Uzushiogakure, and they had definitely had distinctive hair.

Obviously the only way to figure this mystery out would be to catch Genma without his bandana on. Then they'd be able to check his roots, after all, he'd bought the dye so they must be showing at the moment. Unfortunately the three had never noticed how little Genma took off his bandana before it had become important. They watched him like hawks, figuring out rotations like when Namiashi had still been sniffing around.

Iruka tried designing traps that would specifically make Genma lose his bandana. He evaded them as he did with all of Iruka's other masterpieces. Izuma tried to help, maybe make one where losing the bandana is a side effect, but not the main focus? He's less likely to notice that way. That didn't work either. The only high point was that Genma hadn't seemed to notice the difference between these and Iruka's normal pranks. Small mercies.

Surprisingly it was Kotetsu how had haltingly suggested they bring some of Genma's friends into the the loop, grimacing while he forced the words out. Izumo countered what if they already knew and didn't care or wouldn't share? Iruka pointed out that it would still get them further than they had gotten on their own. The only question was who would be likely to help

Gai was crazy, but nice, but also seemed like a horrible secret keeper. Yamashiro was obnoxious, but normally funny. Hatake was just weird. Namiashi remained squarely in the shit house and therefore excluded from their plans. In the end they talked with Yamashiro, got overheard by a few of the older jounin and somehow Anko had bullied it out of Iruka after class.

It may have gotten a little out of hand.

Genma rubbed at his scalp as he toed off his sandals, trying to get rid of the prickling feeling he'd been walking about with all day. It had been enough that he'd begged off and out with his genin teammates, claiming to not feel up to it that day. Ebisu had frowned, pushed his glasses up and told him to take care of himself. Gai had shouted that he would fetch him curry to REKINDLE THE FIRES OF HIS MOST YOUTHFUL SPIRIT, and it that did not work he would run a hundred laps around the village in his honor. Genma politely declined the curry, while Ebisu slipped away before he could get caught up in Gai's self imposed challenge.

Sighing tiredly, Genma slid his hand up under his bandana, tugging it off to run calloused fingers through his hair. He'd bought dye to touch up his roots weeks ago, but hadn't found the time in the past month. He figured it didn't matter too much in the long run. He kept the bandana on more often than not, even in village, and it wasn't as if he'd let it get to the point where his natural colour had grown past the cloth anyway. Shaking his head to clear it, Genma turned into his bedroom and reached into the cupboard under the table he kept the pictures of his family on, tucked up next to the old coat he'd begged off his sister before the Chunin Exam, a few bottles of his mother's perfume and favourite poisons, and an aunt's herbal journal. He thought it fit there, with the other reminders.

 _His sister had helped him dye his hair before he started the academy, early enough that the scent wouldn't register with any Inuzuka students. His mother had gone to the store and let him pick out what shade of nondescript brown he wanted. He'd chosen a brown almost identical to the great Fire Beeches that towered over their home, he'd love how tall and sturdy they were. How dependable those trees were. It was something their family had been doing for years, even back during the Warring Clans Era. Each of them picking something slightly different than the others so as not to develop an identical look like the larger clans. Something soft, and unremarkable that helped them blend into any crowd, in any town, in any country. That was the legacy his mother and sister told him about. As matter a factly as they talked about assassination techniques or the best stall for dango. It was just another fact of being Shiranui. You tied your allegiance on the inside of your heart, and scrubbed the potential to be noticed from your hair._

" _This is who we are, outoto." His sister had murmured as she rinsed the dye from his hair, "We fade into the shadows, even among other shadows, because it is safer and more efficient that." She'd smirked as he looked up, the same crooked grin he saw on his mother and aunt's faces, and flashed at him out of reflective surfaces. "It's not a bad thing, not good either." He'd seen her roots once, while she'd been doing a touchup in the bathroom sink. She'd smiled at him then too. He'd liked the golden red colour that peaked through the top of her chestnut coloured locks, darker with water than they normally were. "What are you staring at outoto?" She'd teased, "Your hair's even redder than Auntie's. Probably get it from Tou-san." He'd smiled back, it was nice to have something from his father, even if he didn't really remember the man. That was alright, he still had two aunts, his mother and his sister. This was alright._

Ah well, time to wash away the rust from his roots, and sink back into the trees.


End file.
